


9 o' clock on a Saturday

by LaeCanDraw



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, I thought it would have been fun to post it here, Misunderstandings, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Possible stalker, Prompt Fic, Stalker, This is just something for my literature class, so enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaeCanDraw/pseuds/LaeCanDraw
Summary: Elly thought she had a stalker.No— Elly was sure she had a stalker.The notion of a cloaked figure just outside of her peripheral view had followed her for more than a month now, and she couldn’t begin to understand why.
Relationships: Ely & Miranda, Ely/Kore





	9 o' clock on a Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah  
> I am back with something actually new, I had to write this short story thing for my english literature class workshop and it was supposed to be at least 2 pages long but I said you know what? Y e e t and my hand slipped and made 8 instead, oops-  
> I was working on this and other things from school, but I've also been doing my fics as well, so sit tight because i might just update them all at once jsjs  
> Based on prompt  
> Rohan and Pink_Drink helped me beta

Elly thought she had a stalker.

No— Elly was _sure_ she had a stalker.

The notion of a cloaked figure just outside of her peripheral view had followed her for more than a month now, and she couldn’t begin to understand why. There was nothing about her that gave any reason to be followed, at least none that she was aware of. She wasn’t exceptionally pretty or important, per se— in fact, she was as normal as someone in their early twenties could get: graduated from music university, with a missing vision of life, and no idea of what to do with her acquired degree. She had moved to a not-so-great apartment complex after being accepted into the local orchestra conveniently located across the street, where she spent most of her day rehearsing.

“All right, everyone,” the conductor said, his powerful voice echoed through the hall, “we’ll stop here for today. Thank you very much, and I expect to see you _all_ on time tomorrow.”

A few eyes wandered towards Miranda in the strings section. Even Elly, who sat with the woodwinds in the row behind her, could tell she probably had a mortified look on her face from the way she clutched the fingerboard of her viola. Once the old conductor stepped down from the podium, everyone quickly packed their instruments and shuffled off stage to take their leave.

“Why were you late?” Elly asked.

Miranda let out an exasperated sigh. “Had a gig last night. I guess I overslept, but I set four alarms— _four_!” she exclaimed. “How do you sleep through four alarms?” She closed her case, viola tucked inside like a baby in a burrito. “You think the conductor was mad?”

Elly giggled. “Nope, not in the least.” The other woman groaned.

After Elly had put her red bohemian robe on and Miranda had remade her messy curls in a bun, the pair made their way to the concert hall’s entrance. They hadn’t even walked a block when Elly noticed a black figure following behind them. A chill ran down her spine and she nudged closer to Miranda like a child to their mother.

“It’s him,” was all Elly said in a fleeting voice.

Miranda somewhat understood what this meant. She looked around and noticed the figure as well. Her face shifted from mildly confused to serious. Her back straightened as she grabbed Elly’s arm in a tight grip and urged her to walk faster, taking a wrong turn at the first corner she saw. For good measure, they took a couple turns more, casually looking back each time until they were sure they weren’t being followed anymore. Panting, they stopped in front of a shop’s showcase, legs aching.

“I think he’s gone.” Miranda turned to Elly. Her hazel eyes were wide as if she had forgotten to blink, heart beating inside her throat. As if regaining consciousness, she whipped her head back and scanned the multitude of people walking past them, half-expecting to see a certain black figure poking out of the crow, but she didn’t.

There was no black figure. There was no stalker. There was nothing to be afraid of.

For now, at least.

They waited a few minutes until Elly calmed down. Miranda offered to walk her home, but Elly refused to. She insisted on going somewhere else instead.

“L-Let’s go to the mall. Yeah, the mall,” she said. “I heard they opened a new tapioca place.”

Miranda felt reluctant but still obliged. She knew what Elly wanted the least at that moment was to go home.

They sat at the table furthest in the back of the seating area, drinking their teas in silence while soft jazz played. Neither of them dared to say a word. As she chewed on the tapioca, Elly contemplated her situation.

She couldn’t remember how she first noticed, or when, but it had definitely started sometime after her first concert with the orchestra. Every night, on her way home, he would be there; walking just a few meters behind, blending in with the night, the sound of his footsteps haunting Elly each and every time. Then, he had started to appear in the most random of places: her favorite café, the pharmacy, the music store, her usual busking places…

Elly started to think these couldn’t just be coincidences.

This person wasn’t hard to miss, either, as he was probably around six feet tall and the embodiment of a Grim Reaper dressed all in black, ready to claim his victims at a moment’s glance. She couldn’t tell if he was really a man or actually a woman because of the hood and black face mask covering his face, a combination that created an overall menacing aura Elly couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by.

They had only made eye contact once— it was one of the many memories Elly wished she could erase. It had happened when she was exiting the hall after rehearsal and, to put it frankly, she literally bumped into him on her way to greet Miranda after a concert.

_“S-sorry!” she said. Her eyes looked up upon receiving no response and her heart sank at the sight. Black eyes stared down at her—no, only one did. The other one was covered by a thick lock of hair. Dark bags had formed under the single eye, like this person hadn’t slept in days_ _. She found it impossible not to stare._

_Elly hadn’t known how much time had passed until she broke free from the fear-induced spell and moved out of their way. As she walked away, she couldn’t help but feel the eyes burning into her back, and so she turned around out of curiosity._

_There, she had seen the stalker looking back at her. There was no emotion in his eye._

_Still, the fear it brought upon her lasted for the rest of the day and all throughout the night._

Miranda was the only one who knew about the stalker situation, mostly because she was the only other person who had seen him as well, and it was easy for her to tell he had something to do with Elly’s uneasiness. They eventually left the mall and continued sipping on their drinks uncomfortably on a bench outside. Miranda was the first one to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“Els, I really think you should go to the police,” she said.

“Wha—” she cut herself off, “no.”

“I’m serious. How long are you gonna let this go on for? I also have stuff to do, you know?”

At this, Elly scoffed. “I never told you to look out for me 24/7.” She immediately regretted her words.

Miranda was left silent. She took another sip of her bubble tea. “You’re right. I don’t have to.”

“Miranda, I’m sorry,” Elly said. Miranda closed her eyes and sighed. “I just… don’t think it warrants telling the police. He hasn’t done anything— what can I accuse him of? It’s not that serious.”

“ _I_ think it’s serious.”

“Yeah, but you’re not the police.”

“Excuse you, I’m your _best friend_.” Miranda almost sounded offended. “You practically live in my apartment—”

“—I _practice_ —”

“—I feed you, I give you rides, I know what’s best, I— oh no, I’m basically your _mother_.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment before laughter broke out. After they had calmed down, Miranda placed her hand on Elly’s shoulder.

“Look, I get you don’t think it’s important, but _please_ don’t let it go on, got it? I can go to the station with you, if you want me to.”

Elly shook her head. “No, you don’t have to. I’ll— I’ll go myself. Tomorrow. “

Although this didn’t entirely convince Miranda that her friend would act on her promise, she still wanted to believe she would, and smiled reassuringly. “Good.”

They finished their drinks, again in silence, both left satisfied with the conversation’s outcome.

Elly stood up, grabbing her flute case. “I have a gig; I’m going to practice in the meantime.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Unlike you, I don’t go waste myself after I’m done.”

Miranda playfully smacked her arm. “Hey!”

“Take care, Miranda.”

“You too, Els.”

As it turned out, Elly did _not_ end up going to the station like she had said she would.

When Miranda asked her about it the next day, she quickly avoided the question by going straight to telling her the best news she had.

“He’s gone?” Miranda asked. Elly nodded effervescently. “You _sure_?”

“Well, not really— but still! I didn’t see him anywhere for the remainder of the day! He didn’t follow me home, and he wasn’t lurking outside when I came here, either.”

“That or he’s found a better way to hide. Elly, you _did_ go to the police, right?”

A moment of silence almost betrayed her. “Of course, I did.” Miranda gave her a doubting look. _She’s not buying it_ , Elly thought.

“Look, can we just not worry about that now?” She tried to ignore Miranda’s gaze, going back to assembling her flute. “Come on, let’s focus on the rehearsal.”

Elly didn’t think she had ever played that well during a rehearsal before. The notes danced out of her flute like a prima ballerina, elegantly yet composed, masterfully playing each and every dynamic meant to portray the movement’s _passionato_ character. Even the conductor congratulated the woodwinds on multiple occasions that day. When the rehearsal came to an end, Miranda decided to abstain from bringing up the stalker a second time. Although she felt something was not quite right, she did feel relieved to see Elly show such vigor and energy; the last thing she wanted was to take that away from her. Then, just like Elly had said, she too started to notice his absence, as if everything had been a bad dream they had finally woken up from.

At least that was before Miranda saw the black figure in the back of the crowd— just behind Elly, listening while she and her quartet played in the park. He was holding his phone, probably to record the performance, or even worse, he could have been taking pictures of Elly without her realizing. By the time the piece ended, however, he had already disappeared without a trace. Elly asked if something was wrong, but Miranda was ultimately unable to tell Elly of what she had just seen. They said their goodbyes, and her gaze lingered on Elly as she walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Miranda turned back and decided to head home, asking herself if she should have walked Elly back home after all.

It was nine o’ clock on a Saturday when Elly came to regret not having listened to Miranda.

The streets near her apartment were unusually dark, and the streetlights barely helped illuminate her path. Lighting had started to strike in the distance, followed by the ominous sound of thunder that indicated a storm was coming her way. Not a single soul walked the streets, except for Elly and the footsteps behind her.

Judging by her surroundings, she was probably three minutes away from the apartment complex, but with every passing second, the street seemed to get longer and longer. She walked under the false pretense that everything was fine, when in reality her body felt stiff, paralyzed, like a rabbit being stalked by a wolf waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She wondered if he could smell her fear. Her arms were weak and her palms sweaty, sheet music in a plastic binder safely tucked under her arm while she grasped the handle of her flute case, unconsciously digging her short nails into her palm’s skin.

_What do I do?_

Her first instinct was to run, but then she reminded herself of the beige baby heels on her feet. She looked around, careful not to make her head movement too noticeable, and saw the nearby dimly lit park equally lacking in people a couple of meters down the street. Maybe she could go there and hide behind a bush until he left. No, she was bound to run into a homeless man or something; those were the type to lurk around parks in the middle of the night, especially in this area. Suddenly, like a heavenly light, Elly remembered she had a cellphone.

She didn’t even need to contact the police, he just had to know she could contact them.

Unable to keep her hand from shaking, she reached into her robe’s pocket and pulled out the device, flipping it open. Yes, it was a flip phone, but it worked, nonetheless. She fidgeted with the buttons for a few seconds but finally managed to find Miranda’s contact. A spark of hope ignited inside her chest as she was about to press the “Call” button, but it died the moment Elly felt a hand being placed on her shoulder. The low, almost baritone voice that accompanied it made her blood run cold.

“Excuse me, miss—”

For a moment, time stopped.

Then, a lightning bolt lit up the sky, and something in Elly snapped.

She didn’t think as she grabbed the stalker’s hand and yanked with all of her might, which was miraculously enough to make him lose his balance and fall straight to the floor. She didn’t think as she threw herself onto his back and locked both of his hands under hers in a painful position behind him. She didn’t think when her case and flute fell onto the ground or when he started to struggle under her.

“Why are you following me?!” Elly screamed twice as louder as the thunder.

“Following you? I just—”

“Shut up! I don’t know what you w-want with me, and-and I honestly don’t care— I don’t even know you!”

“I could say the same thing,” he said. He winced when Elly twisted his wrists harder. “I just wanted to give you those papers you dropped!”

“What?” Elly looked up and saw next to him were a couple of pages from a score she instantly recognized as hers from the initials written on the top-right corner she used to mark her sheet music.

“You… You dropped them just now; I was going to give them back.”

Her grip didn’t falter. If anything, she got angrier. “That doesn’t answer the question. Why are you following me?”

“I _told_ you, I’m not following you.” A harder twist followed by a grunt. “Geez lady, I swear I’m not!”

For the first time, Elly was able to see his face. He wasn’t a _he_ at all, he was a _she_. Granted, she did look extremely androgynous, but one look at her face made it somewhat easy to tell. The face mask had slipped off due to the fall, and the bangs had moved out of the way to reveal she _did_ have another eye behind it. Although she wore no makeup, Elly managed to see a piercing over her left eyebrow and a couple of helix ones on her right ear. Their gazes met, and for the first time, she didn’t feel the need to look away. Her black, coal eyes weren’t lying, and neither was she.

A wave of shame washed over her. Elly let go of her wrists and she immediately got off from her while uttering a million apologies as the woman stood up, dusting off her jeans and massaging her wrists. Elly scrambled to pick up the backpack on the floor and hand it over to its owner, who bittersweetly took it from her.

“Oh, Christ, I’m-I’m so sorry, I— I don’t have an excuse for this,” Elly said.

The woman was about to say something but ultimately didn’t. The tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Is there… Is here anything I could do for you to forgive me? I totally understand if you don’t want to, again, I’m very sorry for tackling you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” she said, “just… Let’s forget this happened.”

Elly nodded, and while looking at the floor, she noticed a notebook had fallen from the woman’s backpack. It was a leather-bound notebook, accidentally opened in a page in the middle.

“Hey, I think you dropped this.”

As she was picking it up, she saw it was a sketchbook, and the page she was staring at was weirdly filled with drawings of the same girl playing what looked to be a violin, coupled with more drawings of violins in different perspectives. Even stranger, Elly could swear this girl looked like Miranda. The sketchbook was ripped out of her hands by the woman and was placed once again inside the backpack.

“You draw?”

“… Something like that.”

“That’s really good.” There was a brief second of silence. “Um, where did you see that girl? The one in the drawings I mean.”

“Some concert I went to. I see her in the park a lot, too. She’s good reference material.” Her hands rested inside her hoodie pocket.

Elly nodded awkwardly, smiling. The conversation reached a halt once again until Elly took up the courage to speak. Again. “I’m Elly, by the way.”

The woman stared at her. “Kore,” she finally mumbled.

Just as Kore said her name, a raindrop fell on Elly’s nose. The another one. And another one. Suddenly, a gentle rain started to pour down and the girls were forced to take cover under the nearest shop’s showcase. They stared in silence into the sky, both regretting not having brought an umbrella. Kore pulled up her face mask and hoodie, readying herself to run back home.

“Um… Kore was it?” Elly asked. Kore hummed in response.

“My apartment isn’t too far from here. We can probably make it there without getting too wet.”

“Mine either. Don’t worry, I can run just fine.”

“Aw, come on, I already feel bad enough for attacking you. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Kore sighed, and Elly thought she saw her smile under the face mask. “Ok.”

**Author's Note:**

> So the prompt was: I think you're a stalker so I falcon punch you but you actually weren't my stalker also, may we fall in love as the story progresses?  
> or something like that  
> I wanted to write a wlw thing but this is what came out instead. I'd like to continue it, but I think it's good as it is.  
> Also yes, I ship these two. Miranda is Ely's wingman.


End file.
